


And It Feels Like Home

by imafriendlydalek



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: 5 Times, 80's Music, Alternate Universe, Inspired by Music, M/M, Musical References, bike messenger Jensen, security guard cougar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 03:39:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19348738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imafriendlydalek/pseuds/imafriendlydalek
Summary: Five times Cougar didn't realize Jensen was serenading him, and one time he did.Or also: bike messenger Jensen and an increasingly flustered security guard Cougar





	And It Feels Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> I put the 80's playlist on and used the first five songs that came up. Thanks, playlist.
> 
> This isn't beta'ed and I had a bit of wine, so forgive me, please?

With Or Without You

-

It was all Bono’s fault. 

If it hadn’t been for Bono and his stupid never-get-them-out-of-your-head belt-them-out-at-the-top-of-your-lungs anthems, none of this would have happened.

Cougar had been at his new job as a security manager for all of three weeks when _he_ walked into his life, with his airpods and his playlists and his singing and his ridiculously tight shirts.

This was definitely not in his job description.

It’s just - when the CEO of one of the biggest companies in the building thrusts a package in your hands and says “make sure this gets delivered within the hour” and you really need this job, well, you don’t go arguing semantics.

And so it came that thirteen minutes later, a bike messenger pulled up in front of the building, leaned his bike against the carefully cleaned glass wall, and danced through the revolving doors.

“...we reach the shore, you give it all but I want more,” he sang. 

White earbuds poked out of his ears; a smartphone was strapped to his bicep. His incredibly muscular bicep, Cougar couldn’t help but notice. His hips swayed as he danced his way over to the security desk, singing the whole way.

“I can’t liiiiive, with or without youuuuu’re new,” he transitioned. In a more serious tone, he continued, “Got a call for a pickup. It’s Time Messenger Services. Jake Jensen.”

Cougar narrowed his eyes at the man’s fingers drumming on the previously gleaming marble of the counter, followed the lines of his arms up. He wore a bright orange athletic shirt, at least two sizes too small, judging by the way it hugged his muscular curves. Thin metal glasses rested on his nose, the lenses tinted dark. His blond hair was cropped short, with sweat beading where his helmet had been.

“I am,” Cougar acknowledged. He passed the messenger the envelope. “Make sure it gets there safely.”

Jensen clutched the envelope carefully to his chest. “I find your lack of faith disturbing,” he said, dropping his voice to sound like Darth Vader.

Cougar allowed himself a small smile. Jensen must have picked up on it, because he mirrored it with a wide grin.

“And you give yourself awaaaaaay,” he sang as he strolled out of the building, waving over his shoulder. “And you give, and you give…”

***

Down Under

-

It was almost two weeks later that Jensen sidled into Cougar’s lobby again.

“I come from a land down under,” he wharbled. “Where beer does flow and men chunder. What does that even mean, chunder?”

Cougar raised an eyebrow at the fingers drumming on the security desk. “Vomit,” he said as he slid the package across the desk.

“What, here?” Jensen asked incredulously. “Oh, you mean that’s what it means. Huh, weird. Australia’s a funny place. You’re not Australian, are you?”

Cougar shook his head.

“Can’t you hear, can’t you hear the thunder? You better run, you better take cover.”

There was a loud thud as Jensen, who had been backing up toward the door, smacked into the glass wall. He spun around, looked outside, looked back to Cougar with a mortified expression, and fled through the revolving door. He didn’t look up as he got back on his bike and pedaled away.

Cougar couldn’t help but smile.

***

Ghostbusters

-

Halloween was still a few weeks away, but skeleton and pumpkin decorations had been appearing in shop windows and doors around town. The seasonal racks at the supermarket were chock full of candy and cheap costume paraphernalia. When Cougar came in to work that morning, a plastic jack-o-lantern filled with mini candy bars had been sitting on the security desk. Maurice, his shift partner, had shrugged at Cougar’s raised eyebrow and offered as an explanation: “They do it every year. Just make sure there’re always a few pieces left - once it was empty and the CFO from Sysmas on the eighteenth floor seriously almost lost his shit. That guy loves his Snickers.”

Cougar just shrugged and made a note to keep an eye on it.

Of course it would be Jensen he’d have to keep an eye out for.

He rolled up, as usual, swinging off his bike with a casual ease just inches from the door, moonwalked in through the revolving door in a tight, bright pink shirt and equally tight biking shorts.

“I ain’t afraid of no ghost,” he declared as he pushed his glasses up his nose. He sidestepped across the lobby toward the security desk, finally sliding to a stop right in front of Cougar. “If you’re seeing things, running through your head, who you gonna call?”

“Jake Jensen,” Cougar replied in the same cadence as the song.

There was a moment’s pause. Jensen just stared at Cougar, his lips parting as if he was about to say something before snapping shut again. Then he burst out laughing.

“Oh man, you are one sneaky funny guy, my friend,” Jensen managed, clutching his stomach as he laughed. “You look all innocent and serious and shit, but damn, that was good.”

Cougar gave him a half-smile as he reached for the envelope that needed to be delivered. That’s when he spotted Jensen’s hand reaching into the jack-o-lantern, a fist forming around the candy inside. He swatted at Jensen’s wrist with the envelope. “One piece only.”

“Ooooh, candy police,” Jensen said, pulling his hand back. “Alright, be that way. Just don’t expect me to come running to your aid if there’s something straaaaaange, in your neighborhood…”

***

Africa

-

Being a Security Manager for a building full of multinational companies, law firms, brokerages and other business ventures brought with it a lot more responsibilities than just making sure the bike messenger was given the things that needed to be couriered (In fact, that wasn’t even supposed to be part of the job). There were cameras to monitor, visitors to sign in and out, access cards to issue. Sometimes he’d get called to escort someone in or out of the building - he hated those calls, because it usually meant someone had gotten fired, and he knew how tough it could be to find a job these days. There wasn’t a lot of downtime, and some days Cougar would be running from one task to the next his whole shift with barely any break.

It was on one of those days. The twelfth floor was downsizing, so Cougar had been doing escorts all morning while Maurice monitored the desk. He was out on lunch, though, so Cougar was at the desk, trying to catch up on a stack of access cards for the new associates on the eighth floor, when the admin from the nineteenth floor came down with a package that needed to be brought uptown. Cougar keyed in the courier request - it was muscle memory at this point, and he’d almost forgotten about it when Jensen came in a few minutes, headphones in as usual, slightly winded and dripping from the rain.

Of course, one of the partners from the law firm had just come in with a crowd of unannounced visitors, so Cougar was working as quickly as he could to issue their visitor passes. He looked up to catch Jake’s eye, then nodded to the package on the edge of the desk.

“It’s waiting there for you,” he told Jensen. Jensen had been there often enough, he didn’t need any more instruction. The destination address was in the system, so there wasn’t anything more Cougar needed to tell him. 

As he turned back to the list of passes, he just barely caught sight of a wide grin spreading across Jensen’s face.

“It’s gonna take a lot to drag me away from you,” Jensen began quietly, growing louder with each word. “There’s nothing that a hundred men or more could eeever dooooo!”

He grabbed the package, spun a few times across the lobby. “I bless the rains down in Aaaaafricaaaaa! Gonna take some time to do the things we never haaaaaaad!” He stuffed the package in his waterproof messenger bag, pulled the dripping hood of his poncho over his head. Cougar could still hear him as he danced through the door and got on his bike: “I bless the rains down in Aaaaaaafricaaa!”

Cougar looked away from where Jensen had just cycled off. The law firm partner was staring at him.

Cougar shrugged. “He’s eccentric, but he’s fast.”

***

I Just Can’t Get Enough  
-

“Karaoke Boy’s back.” 

Cougar looked over from his monitor to Maurice, who nodded toward the door. On the other side of the glass, Jensen was leaning his bike against the building, tugging down his shirt, which had ridden up around his midriff, and bobbing through the revolving door.

“...and I just can’t seem to get enough of - oh hey, Carlos, Maurice. Got a delivery for you, for Sysmas.” Jensen reached into his bag to pull out the package, the music still audible through his earbuds as he held it out to Cougar.

“We slip and slide as we fall in love,” the song declared as Cougar’s eyes met Jake’s, wide and friendly and inviting. 

Jake smiled.

Cougar looked down at the package. 

“Thanks, Jensen. I’ll make sure they get it,” Cougar just managed to get out.

Jensen nodded. “See you next time,” he said before resuming his song-and-dance out of the building.

“You’re like an angel and you give me your love, and I just can’t get enough, I just can’t get enough…”

***

Like a Prayer

-

Three months went by. There had been a lull around the holidays without any deliveries that needed couriers going in or out. Then Cougar had been out with the flu, and the times that they had called the courier service, a different messenger had come. It wasn’t as if Cougar was particularly bothered by it - at least there wasn’t any obnoxious singing disturbing the peace in his lobby. Except he definitely was. And as time wore on, it irked him more and more. The other messengers were nice enough, but it was boring. Same old, same old. Cougar’s job was to maintain the status quo in the building, but that’s all there was - peace and quiet. Maybe old habits die hard. Maybe he missed the excitement of his Army days. Maybe he needed something else to do. 

Maybe he just missed those stupid songs.

Maybe he just missed Jensen.

He hated things that drew attention, except when Jensen did it, he didn’t hate it at all.

But Jensen hadn’t been there in a while. He might have gotten a new job, or gotten injured and couldn’t ride a bike anymore, or gotten assigned to a new route. Either way, Cougar was about to give up on seeing the guy again when, speak of the devil, Jensen waltzed - literally waltzed - into the lobby with a long cardboard tube tucked under his arm.

“I hear you call my name, and it feels like … home,” Jensen sang. His eyes caught Cougar’s and a wide grin spread across his face. Cougar felt himself smile.

“When you call my name, it's like a little prayer.” Jensen danced his way across the lobby before sliding down onto his knees in front of the security desk. “I’m down on my knees, I wanna take you there.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” Cougar said around a smile. In the back of his mind, he registered that his heart was racing.

“I hear your voice, it’s like an angel sighing. I have no choice, I hear your voice. Feels like flying.”

“Get up, Jensen, or I have to escort you out,” Cougar warned, though he didn’t mean any of it.

Jensen ignored him summarily as he let himself sink to the floor. “I close my eyes, Oh God I think I'm falling. Out of the sky, I close my eyes.”

Cougar got up and walked around the desk so he was standing over Jensen, who lay sprawled out on the marble tiles.

“Heaven help me.”

Heaven help _me_ , Cougar thought as he looked down at Jensen grinning up at him, the tube clutched to his chest.

Cougar held out a hand to help him up. “You know I’ll take you there.”

Jensen’s mouth was agape. He was still for a moment, as if he was too surprised to move. Finally he took Cougar’s hand and allowed himself to be helped to his feet.

“Just like a prayer, your voice can take me there. Just like a muse to me, you are a mystery.”

He was still holding Cougar’s hand. Cougar had no desire to let go either.

Except he had to, because he had a job to do and a professional demeanor to maintain and there were people coming in and going out.

So he let go, held out his palm for Jensen to give him the package.

Which he did, except he looked utterly _crumpled_. It rolled through Cougar, regret at being the one to put that look on Jensen’s face. And suddenly it all made sense - why he had been so put out when the company had sent a different courier, why he had missed the singing so much. All those songs Jensen had been singing, he hadn’t just been singing them, he’d been singing them _for him_.

“Have dinner with me?” he asked, his voice low so only Jensen would hear.

Jensen’s face lit up at the suggestion. “Absolutely.”


End file.
